


The Handful

by The_Shy_Chimera



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: As in OC's owns a sex toy factory, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everybody Lives, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, It takes time, Kinda Prude!Steve, Miscommunication, Sex Toys, in the past, pining!Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-05-21 10:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shy_Chimera/pseuds/The_Shy_Chimera
Summary: Fury pushes for new members to add to the team. Tony might have just the right person in mind.The right person for Tony might not be the best person for Steve, but she has brain, powers, a sassy mouth and every intention to use it to make the Captain a blushing mess.Between finding a new balance for the team and tackling resurfacing demons from her past, the search for some common ground to get closer to each other seems impossible.Seems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language, so if you spot typos or errors, please point them out so I can correct them. Thanks!  
> Also, I changed from << and >> for speech in this fic to a more common " ... ", just a heads up!

There was a blur of red and gold out the window to announce Tony was about to stride in, ‘fashionably’ late once again. Fury didn’t pause his tirade on the need of new recruits, the files about his options glowing dimly from the various screens above their heads. Steve wasn’t that convinced about them.

It all came to a stop when the door swung open on the one and only Tony Stark, who looked around with a shit-eating grin.

“Aww, begun without me?”

“The memo was clear about the time of the meeting. You’ll catch up later.” Fury drawled, turning back to the screen that was displaying a video of a giant of a man with invulnerable skin who was making the news in Harlem.

“No need to, I scanned the files on the way here. I scrap them all.” the billionaire announced cheerful.

“And let’s hear: on what bases, Stark?”

Tony’s shoulders straightened as he began circling the table, pointing at each of them, one after the other.

“Let’s review our situation. Banner, Vision and I have the Brain part of the job covered; Hulk and Thor are our muscle power. Cap, Red, Hippy-hair and the Lion King take over the hand-to-hand fight part.” he listed, passing him, Nat, Bucky and T’challa.  “Wanda has our medium range on point, then we have Birdie and War-Machine for sky surveillance, Clint who’s our long-distance go-to, and Pietro who’s our only speedster.”

Tony turned to Fury with his arms wide, palms up, as if daring him to contradict his analysis. The spy didn’t.

“What do we have here? Super-strong girl with sloppy at best fighting skills. Fits the Muscle box. And…wow. Impenetrable skin muscle-man from Harlem. Repeat after me: Muscle box. Then, living-sonar blind-guy with martial arts under his belt. What class could he ever fall into? Hand to hand, you got it!” the billionaire continued, pointing at the screens and concluding smiling brightly at them, as if congratulating a group of kindergartens.

“Danny Rand!? Fuck, they give superpowers to anyone these days, what’s he do? Iron Fist, hmmm. Am I the only one who finds it lame? By the way, his fist ain’t even real iron. Grumpy Soldier has the definition right. Next in line, Stephen Strange, magician. Nope. And least but not last: Quake, the girl who shakes the earth. Can’t seem to find a fault in employing such a woman when most of our fights happen in crowded cities full of skyscrapers. Anything else on the list?”

Fury was glaring. Hard.

“I don’t suppose you have a viable option, then?”

“Actually, I do. And she has us covered in all the ways that count. She doesn’t even have previous engagements like the Shield or the Defenders. So, clean up and dress sharp, lads, we’re going to meet her in an hour.”

“Who are you even talking about, Tony?”

The billionaire’s grin widened as he pushed forward on the table a shop’s business card that bore the brand ‘Honey & Spice’.

Nat perked up.

*+*+*+*

Tony’s too large car stopped in front of a tall building with a marble façade and shaded windows, in one of SOHO’s busier streets. There was the business card’s same logo stamped in gold on the dark glass, giving the place a sophisticated look that spoke of very high prices.

Tony got out of the car with a satisfied curve to his lips and waited for the rest of them to follow. Some had opted out for the moment, insisting on sending forth the original team.

Nat looked like she was about to witness some good show, Clint was forcefully impassive, Bruce was eyeing the shop cautiously, Steve could already hear the cries of horror his wallet would let out and Thor was blissfully unaware of the glares the shop assistants inside were likely to throw at his worn-out sweater.

Without losing time, Tony led them through the front doors into an elegant white hall. A burgundy carpet ran straight from the door, passing underneath a cream-colored clerk desk, and on to an elevator on the opposite side of the room. From there it kept running along the two wings of showcases lining the walls.

From what Rogers could see, behind the glass were jewels. They didn’t even look all that peculiar. Still, a sign declared in bold letters how that was the ‘Undercover’ collection. Why, he didn’t know. He supposed it didn’t matter, either, as Tony approached the desk, and the pretty clerk there smiled kindly at them all.

“Hello, we’re here to meet Valerie Anton.”

“I’ll call her office immediately. Who should I announce?” the employee asked politely.

“Tony Stark and team. Thank you.”

The clerk nodded and brought a phone to her ear. A few moments of silence, then she passed the message to whomever was on the other end. “Yes, Ma’am. Mr. Stark and his colleagues… I’ll inform them immediately.” the woman said in an even voice, then the call ended and she stared back at Tony.

“Ms. Anton will join you in a few minutes at the Terrace’s Café. She welcomes you to look around on your way up.”

“Cool, we’ll take a catalogue with us.” Nat spoke before anyone could stop her.

“Of course, this one has been adjourned to the latest novelties in our collections. Enjoy.” the clerk smiled kindly, handing a maroon leather-bound booklet to the spy, who thanked and began sweeping through pages on her way to the elevators.

A gleam from one of the showcases caught Steve’s eye as he walked, and he approached the glass to catch a better glimpse of a set of bracelets, golden and silver, consisting of two rigid bangles with some inspirational quote engraved on them, linked by a thin chain. The tag called them “Handcuff-Bangles”. Weird. He inspected the necklaces in the next showcase, and while they were all similar in shape, with a thin rod attached to a chain, or to a braided leather cord in one case, they all had different taglines listing how they were a “Whip-choker”, a “Lube vial-necklace”, and a “vibrator-pendant”. Oh. He scanned the others, trying to see if they knew, or had realized, and found Bruce who was choking and looking at anyone but Nat, who was inspecting a collier that had a clamp at each end of the clasp, and a third one hanging like a pendant from a short chain. Thor wasn’t paying attention to the tags while he admired a jade ring, too big to be put on a finger, too small to be a bracelet. Two women were ogling him with shining eyes and barely suppressed giggles.

Steve moved quickly to join Tony by the elevator. Clint hadn’t said a word since they had got out of the car, and now his back was straighter than a ruler, his jaw was locked shut, and he was making sure to never meet people’s eyes.

Seeing him move, Bruce took the chance and made a dash for the group, steering Natasha away from a set of ruby encrusted body chains. Thor left a little crowd of ladies by an expositor of all sort of feathered rings and trotted to their side when the elevator door rang. Clint shoved him in first and everyone else followed suit, but before they could say anything, Nat had pushed a button already, ignoring the Novice floor to catapult them all straight into the Easter floor (‘Eggs, bunnies, and anything twitchy’). Thor joined in, pushing the Elixir floor button.

“You know what that is about?”

“Yeah, elixirs and potions. I didn’t know the practice endured on Midgard, too.”

Clint and Bruce began pushing the Terrace Café button frantically. It still didn’t spare them the vision of a roomful of odd-looking silicon rods, shining eggs and spheres and a wall covered in bullet vibrators in any color, theme and possible setting. Steve held the elevator’s door as Natasha skipped out and began examining said bullet vibs. Then Tony got out to and strode without hesitation to a large, translucent, definitely-non-human-shaped dildo that emitted a freakish pale blue light from the bulbous base. Without shame, Tony activated it, studying the bulb with a focused look, and Steve felt his insides coil and twist at the monstrous thing writhing motions.

Nat passed by the billionaire on her way back and the man put back the cringey dildo, returning to the elevator. It began moving up, almost to the terrace floor, then it stopped and opened on a boutique room with multicolored bottles everywhere and wafts of perfume coming from any direction. Lube bottles of any size, color, taste and composition. Massage oils in even more variations. Then, two full shelves advertising some miraculous pheromone-based perfumes. Clint was on the verge of an aneurism, and Thor was gloating because Asgardian elixirs were way better by his standards. He still insisted on trying a pheromone vial of scent. It was a collective decision to ignore the stares, glances and wishful smirks the thunder lord received as proof of the liquid’s usefulness.

They finally made it to the Terrace. A pretty waitress with cornrowed buns led them to a private table and left some menus with them. Clint threw his between Bruce and Steve after only a glance, and they soon noticed that pretty much any combination aside for black coffee contained one or another allegedly aphrodisiac ingredient. Heck, there was even a coffee blend selected specifically to stimulate libido. How was Tony so serene!? Steve had felt his cheeks burn since they left the ground floor! What kind of woman would be the one to own such a place? What could she possibly offer to the team!? Aside from the obscene devices downstairs, that is. His brain was unhelpfully picturing a female version of how Tony was when they first met.

The waitress from before came back, recounting excitedly about a Neurology lecture she had that morning to a woman wearing dark sunglasses and sticking to the shadowed parts of the terrace. The girl stopped talking when they reached the table and asked for their orders. Clint, Bruce and he begged for simple black coffee in a chorus.

“A honey, pomegranate and ginger infuse for me.” announced Tony, seraphic.

“I take the same. And I also take the chocolate cake with strawberry, and pink pepper glaze, thank you.”

“Make it two of what she said.” copied Thor with a large smile for the girl, who, by now, had surely understood who they were. A bit giddy, she turned to the other woman before leaving.

“It’s gonna be another coffee and ginseng for me, triple sugar. Thanks, Tavena.”

The girl nodded and scurried back inside, while the stranger stalled by the table. She was wearing black leather leggings that fit her legs like gloves, black heels, a comfy-looking off-the shoulder pale grey sweater over a lacy black…

“Is that Madewell’s new bralette?” Nat inquired appreciatively.

“Yes. You like the brand? I’ve got an extra coupon.” the woman offered.

“I’m liking you.” Nat announced, and the other smirked.

“It’s mutual.” she drawled. And winked.

Steve felt Bruce tutting from beside him, while Natasha looked all too pleased.

“Easy, Tiger, don’t go breaking hearts before even being introduced.” came the reprimand from Tony, at the opposite head of the table. Still, he looked proud rather than reprimanding.

“You’re the one to talk!”

“Hey, I’m a changed man: Pepper made me honest. She says hi, by the way.”

“Aww. Right back at her. And please, send my regards to Laura, too, Mr. Barton, will you?”

“Sure.” Clint rasped. He looked on the verge of choking. The woman didn’t let go, a playful grin on her face.

“I’m a little hurt, tough. I expected at least a tiny little “thank you”, you two.” she made her gaze slide from Hawkeye, to Tony, then back at Hawkeye, who flushed beet red and was about ready to leap off the terrace railing.

“Wait, what fo-”

“Your suggestions were efficient.” Clint bit out, not making eye contact while Nat squealed in realization. That…explained a lot about his behavior.

“I get Three-Kids Barton, but why me? Do you know something I don’t?” Tony inquired.

“Uh? No? Didn’t you get the new blueprints I sent you last week?” the girl covered her misstep easily and sat down on the opposite side of the billionaire.

“I don’t buy it. What is it? Did Pepper get something?”

“You know what, I’m not even sure it was for you. Didn’t really fit the scheme. Are you two in an experimenting phase?” What the heck of a question was that? In front of everybo-

“A-”

“I don’t want to know!” Banner finally broke. Thank Lord that seemed to stop the two fiends from further detailing.

“Legit. You could have all learned something, but fine. Team, this delightful lady is Valerie Anton: MIT graduate at thirteen. She was my right arm in perfecting the first arc-reactor, and by the time I came back from the desert with my own prototype, she had patented an alternative portable version that is visible in the terrifying monstrosity in the Bunny department.” Tony shuddered, then continued.

“I’m impressed: aside from the monster-dick, how did you manage to stay open this long if your devices are powered by an inexhaustible source?” he asked then.

“Didn’t you get the memo? Orgasm is addictive.” she drawled with velvety voice and Steve felt the air on his neck rise. “And in this field novelty gets old fast.”

“She makes the pieces interchangeable: there are only seven models of Gin-Y tech engines from which choose. Once you have one, you can buy any and every complementing design in that category. Just like bras: even if the base models are all the same, there are new designs and limited editions every season.” Nat read from a page in the catalogue as their drinks arrived. The woman nodded pointedly.

“The only mild and bland thing to get in bed should be chicken broth when you’re sick.”

“I can drink to that!” Thor agreed, lifting his cup. Tony spoke over the steam of his infusion.

“Valerie, meet the squad. You know Clint, the others are Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Thor and Steve Rogers.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Still, as much as I like _foreplay_ , I think it’s time to get to the point.” She greeted from over the rim of her coffee cup.

Finally, the business they had come here for. Steve straightened in his chair.

“We’ve come to make you a proposal.” he said, before Tony could deviate further from the goal. Steve still couldn’t fathom what they needed another engineer for.

“Oh, my. I only got a _proposition_ for you.” she taunted, and despite his best efforts, he felt himself flush from irritation and embarrassment. Her plush lips were curved in a smile, but he still couldn’t see her eyes behind the dark lenses.

“We’re looking for new members. Tony believes you could be an asset to the team. Would you go through a training period with us?” he asked, pinched. And for the first time, she turned serious.

“What has he told you about me?”

“For now, your name and the thing about MIT. Is there anything else we should know?” something useful, perhaps.

“Plenty.” she said and then she thrust her arm out, exposing the skin to the sunlight for a few seconds, before taking her sunglasses off. When she opened her eyes, bristling and scrunching them against the mild afternoon light, her irises were magnetic.  The palest silver, with a gleam of golden energy flickering in them. She retracted her arm and began passing a ball of condensed sunlight from one to the other, making reflections and shadows dance all around. It was mesmerizing.

She let the light-playdough disperse and leaned forward on the table.

“Want to see another trick?”

“There’s more?” he let out, surprised and dazed by her face and those incredible eyes, that now crinkled as her smile widened sincerely.

“Look and see…or, well, _don’t_.” her velvety voice was playful as she leant back again, only that midway in the motion, she completely disappeared.

“What the-?” Steve thrusted his hand in the space she had occupied and suddenly made contact with her jumper, that became visible only beneath their point of contact.

“What is it? How do you do it?”

“It’s not over. Try and look at the person sitting in front of you.” her disembodied voice encouraged, and the heroes gasped at not seeing anybody there. Then, suddenly, someone appeared, but it was a mirrored copy of themselves.

Valerie’s crystalline chuckle rang out from her empty place and all illusions faded. She had her sunglasses back on and was smiling at their reactions.

“Photokynesis, in all its forms. From light-beams, to light-speed, to…this. Chromo-manipulation. We see what light reflects upon. If I tamper with that, you see only what I show you.”

“So, you’re an illusionist and also a speedster.” Clint deduced.

“The fastest.” she confirmed. “What exactly would you have me do in your team? You don’t seem to be lacking either tech nor gunpower.”

“You’d protect the world with us. Saving people by preventing criminals from acting and stopping the menaces that may come.” Steve explained.

“You want me to fight.” her serene façade closed up.

“To help those who don’t have the means to do it themselves. Yes.” he insisted. She smiled at him again, but it wasn’t playful nor happy, only bitter. Her eyes once again unreachable. Even more when she turned to stare out at the city. She was silent for a long while, but they let her. It wasn’t an easy task what they were asking.

The moment stretched suspiciously, and just as Steve reached for her, she disappeared from the chair and reappeared clapping her hands on Bruce’s shoulders yelling “Boooh!” and scaring the poor doctor to death. Steve rounded on her, who was giggling, studying Banner.

“Nope. Nothing. Not even a speck. I’m impressed. I mean, you told me about it but still. He’s good.” she said to Tony, who had an air of paternal pride that was very disconcerting seeing the teasing, reckless temperament of this girl. They exchanged another meaningful glance, then resumed their carefree attitudes.

“Alright, I accept the invitation for a trial period. But I get free access to the labs.”

“Fine by us.” Nat agreed, despite Bruce’s grumbles.

“You were saying you had an offer for us, too?” Steve remembered. What could this puzzling woman want from them that she couldn’t possibly get on her own? She wasn’t lacking means.

“Thanks for reminding me, Captain. Yes, I do.” she looked far too cheerful for safety. “See, as I told you, my job is all about novelty and satisfying the customer. As of late I was developing a new line centered on a sense of safety, but also of power and adventure…”

“Cut the chase, kid.” interrupted Tony, already smirking. Valerie bowed her head mockingly, then looked at them all with shit-eating glee.

“I’m planning an Avengers collection and I’d want you to model for me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to give you an idea of what the team steps into when they enter Honey & Spice:  
> https://unboundbabes.com/collections/jewelry  
> https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/this-beautiful-jewelry-collection-is-actually-a-line-of-high-end-sex-toys_us_58a491b1e4b03df370dc8582


	2. Chapter 2

***What happened before the jump-scare at Bruce’s expense***

Tony watched as everybody gave Y/N’s illusion some space to think. All the while, the real thing walked around the table to him, a message silently typed on the screen of her phone.

“A word. Be stealthy.” She gestured for him to follow her in an even more private part of the terrace. Her brows were furrowed, a stern expression on her face instead of the friendly mask.

“I won’t join, Tony. I’m not a fighter.”

“You are. There are many kinds of fighters, you’re the ruthless type, and that’s when you use words only.”

“You know what I had to do to escape last time. Why’d you bring the same vultures to my door!?” she hissed, and he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, looking away for a moment.

“Things are getting harder. We can take it, many other people cannot. And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you care for people.”

“Can we really take it, tough? I was with you through the palladium. I saw you after New York. Are the others in the same boat as you?” _Are you all cracking under the pressure?_ she thought.

“For every battle we win, we…struggle more. But we can’t allow ourselves to break. And I’m…” he paused for a long moment, unsure of what to admit “I need someone willing to do what has to be done if things get rough.” She felt a shiver down her spine at the implication in her friend’s words.

“Nothing is gonna happen to you, Tony. And when Pepper will finally get you to retire, the Captain will step up.” Tony shook his head, both dejected and frustrated.

“He can’t. Not when it gets personal, he’s not able to let go. We avoided disaster by miracle when he set out to find Barnes. Now the United Nations are breathing on our necks.” A longer pause, when he willed away his frown and took in Y/N’s weary expression. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she seemed to reign her anxiousness in, getting a fierce gleam in her eyes. “I know the kind of sacrifices you’re willing to make for the right cause. I saw you making them. And I’m not sure I can do the same much longer. I need your help to keep everybody safe.” And his face was so vulnerable, so tired. She squeezed her eyes shut, already regretting the choice she was making. Just the first of a long series of sacrifices for the right cause. But if Tony wasn’t a good cause, she couldn’t say what was.

“The moment the UN step in, I step out.” She warned, and her heart warmed at seeing him relax. It was as if he was able to take a lungful of hair after a very long apnea. And then his cocky mask slid back in place, as did hers.

“I knew the puppy eyes would make it.” He joked, and she grinned silently. Then a thought occurred to her and the grin took a wicked connotation.

“Hey, Mom and Dad will open a bottle when they get the news. Guess I’m finally doing right by Grampa’s heirloom.” She boasted, and Tony smirked at that. Then they saw the Captain reach for her illusion, and she was quick to step behind Banner for the riskiest jump-scare of all times, to cover Tony’s return to his chair. She appeared cheerful when she announced she was joining.

***Present time***

Steve observed as you paused to fix the sunglasses on your nose while you unloaded the last of your luggage. He supposed it was polite to offer help, so he approached with Bucky and Sam on his heels. Buck stepped in to steady the two large boxes you were struggling to balance. The smile you rewarded him with was so pretty he opened in one of his own. Sam picked up a large box.

“Damn, lady, whatcha packing in here? It weights like War Machine’s little brother.”

“That’s cause you got the Tinker box. It’s a bunch of ideas for my other job. Or is this my other job? I’m still figuring it out.”

“I understand, boy, I understand. I went from veteran to Avenger. We got ex-spies, ex-physicists, ex-billionaires, no, well, he’s still a billionaire…Where do you come from?”

“I fit the moneybag box. The Captain has been to my showroom, has he told you anything about me?” you tease, and Steve immediately busies himself with picking up a trunk and one of your suitcases. Bucky copies him and Sam grins as he leads the way to your room in the large compound.

“He’s been awfully reserved about it. You must have made quite the impression.”

“Still, what is it you do when you’re not saving the world?” Buck asked. The larger your cheeky, cheeky grin spread, the more Steve reddened.

“I practically hold the monopoly of the adult shops market.” you answered, and both him and Sam did a double-take.

“I’m sorry, you mean…”

“I produce, sell and advertise the largest variety of sex-toys known to history. Anything from lubes and condoms, up to completely accessorized kink-themed rooms, my company can provide it.” you elaborated proudly, as you all put your luggage down in the room you had been assigned. The large expanse of windows facing the wood was already obscured, the glass tinted. You took off your glasses with a contented sigh and finally observed your new teammates. You angled yourself better to avoid the blinding light entering from the open door.

With your hands finally free, you went to officially introduce yourself to Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

“Y/N Anton, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Sam Wilson, it’s nice to meet you too.”

“I’m Bucky, the pleasure is mine, miss.” he greeted, suave as his old self. It made Steve’s stomach twist uncomfortably. Even more when you smiled back brilliantly. Then you startled, remembering something and rummaging in your bag. You retrieved and handed them each a golden card with the Honey & Spice logo on it.

“A little thing to thank you all for welcoming me. I thought about coffee, but I didn’t know your tastes, so I opted for-”

“$500 gift-cards for your sex-shop?” Sam squeaked incredulous. Steve looked like he was choking, and Bucky seemed more concerned with him than with the gift, that he pocketed, confused but curious.

“I was saying ‘for something more customizable’, but your version works too.”

“Girl, I changed my mind.” he answered with a stern face and you braced yourself. “It’s _real_ nice to meet you!”

Steve threw him a betrayed glare before pushing down his embarrassment and clear his throat.

“We’ll let you unpack, now. Come down to the lounge room in two hours so we can introduce you to the rest of the team.” he instructed brisk. It gave you the perfect opening: you could already taste his blush.

“So Bossy…” you drawled dragging your eyes up from his sculpted chest to his own wide eyes. “That attitude could get many panties in a _twist_ , Captain, did nobody warn you?”

His lips moved to form half-finished words but his voice never followed and reigning in your laughter to keep a smoldering façade took your all. You glanced to Sam and Bucky who were grinning like lunatics, a foot away from the door. Steve emitted a strangled noise and you snapped your widened, innocent eyes back to him.

“Yes?” God, how easy it was to tease him. His senses finally caught up with him and his handsome face darkened in a scowl.

“See you later, Miss Anton.”

He strode out the door quickly, passing his friends on the way out and giving you one hell of a view. When he disappeared from sight you lifted your eyes only to find Sam and Bucky staring at you with mirrored grins. A heartbeat later your laughters echoed in the hall, and they left giggling, to go and tease their comrade a little more.

*+*+*+*+*+*

“Thanks for setting up those windows, by the way.” you said as Tony accompanied you to the lounge.

“Nice, uh? Friday regulates them automatically. If you need anything, ask her.”

They walked down a corridor, and Tony pointed at a few doors, listing the different uses each room had. You hummed, trying to memorize it all, but with each step towards the meeting, it got harder to focus on anything else.

What were you really doing here? Powers or not, you didn’t know the first thing about fighting. And honestly, your special abilities were the only reason they even wanted you. They had enough geniuses as it was, and you definitely wouldn’t build weapons for them. Not in a million years. You had refused that path long before you had any real option, now you had a world of possibilities beside crafting arms. And even if they kept you on the team, how long would it be before your family found out? What would they do, then? What would the team do?

“You became shy all of a sudden, kiddo?” Tony teased, snapping you out of your musings.

“In your dreams, old man.” you rebuked, putting up a façade. The last thing you needed was to give Tony more troubles, after what he did for you. His kind brown eyes told you he didn’t buy it. How could he? Your friendship was practically born out of your shared dysfunctional coping methods. You thanked all the saints and gods out there every day for putting Pepper on Tony’s way ten years ago.

“Pull your head out of the gutter. You’re gonna knock’em dead.”

“The Captain dislikes me already.”

“You’re my favorite, of course he’d spoil our fun. He’ll warm up to you in no time. And if he doesn’t, Pep and Nat are ready to gang up on him, which, if you remember, is always a fun show.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” you deadpanned, and with a playful shoulder bump, Tony made you turn a corner and arrive in the large living room to a heartwarming sight.

There was a table full of snacks and drinks by the windows, and Dum-e was holding up one end of a “Welcome” streamer above it. A little crowd of known and unknown faces hang about, chatting amicably. Thor was the first to spot you, and his voice boomed.

“Y/N Anton! Come meet our comrades!” he invited with a large smile. He wrapped you under his impossibly muscled arm the moment you got in reach and turned you towards a red and green cyborg, a girl wearing lots of rings, and Bruce.

“These are Vision and Wanda. My friends, this is Y/N Anton, a Sun-blessed and a crafter of love elixirs and ill-fitting rings.” he announced, making you barely suppress a smile and a well-knowing Banner snort quietly, amused. “It’s a really flattering description, Thor. Just remind me to give you a guided tour next time you visit my shops.” you agreed. He nodded satisfied and left you to shake hands with the AI and the woman in front of you.

“I’m perplexed, the data tell me you are the owner of a chain of adult shops.” Vision pointed out, making Wanda widen her eyes looking between him and you for a moment.

“Yes, Thor might have misinterpreted some of my products. I recently marketed a collection of erotic devices doubling as jewelry and a restaurant-café centered on aphrodisiac foods: I can see where the confusion might come from.” you explained smoothly.

“Thank you for your clarification.”

“How did you get in that business?” Wanda asked, no malice in her voice, only simple curiosity that brought a smile to your face.

“Well, people found out early on that I was very capable with mechanics, but once I made clear I wasn’t going to craft weapons, a lot of doors were closed in my face. Tony helped me how he could, but that solution was temporary. And so, nine years ago my last few bucks went into sharing a slimy room with a woman I had met a few days prior at the local food bank. Chatting, that night, it came out that she knew someone who needed a hand in their sex-shop.” you paused to smile remembering the scene when you first entered Ronda’s shop. “I got there the day after and the pipsqueak I was spent the first week blushing at anything and everything. The owners were great, tough. Ronda and Leslie taught me everything about the job, the materials and the way to approach customers. They even let me crash in the back room until I was back on my feet.” you recall warmly, and even Wanda smiles at your story.

“Then one day a woman comes in fussing and raging, saying the toy she had bought had stopped working. She hadn’t even bought it from us! Anyway, the few customers in the shop fled and Leslie and Ronda were out to go buy supplies. We had converted the backroom to a work-room where I’d tinker with the toys that’d get damaged during shipping. I looked at her and this lady was foaming at the mouth, so I told her if she had a few minutes, I could look into it, to see if I could avoid her the trip to another shop for a substitution. I close the shop and get to work and found out the circuit and programming was shit. Like, it was a miracle if one in five of those things worked at all. I told the lady as much and offered to update it, maybe even add a functionality or two. Cut to a couple of weeks later, she returned with a bag full of all her other toys, demanding I upgrade those as well. Give it a month, and I was buried to the neck in toys people brought in to get modified. That business alone earned almost as much as the shop. Until someone got a whiff of it and the cops came asking questions. I wrapped everything up and returned to working shifts. In the meantime, I had saved enough to develop a couple of designs of my own and produce a shelfful of them to sell in the shop. I offered a discounted sample to a few of my chattier customers from the upgrading business, and before I could wrap my head around it, preorders were raining in from every side. And that’s how the story began.”

“That’s really cool! Have you seen Ronda and Leslie again, after?”

“I was at their wedding last June. They sent me pictures from their world-tour a few days ago.” your heart warmed thinking of how happy the two women looked during the ceremony.

“Aww, I’m happy for them.”

“Yes, weddings are surely reason to celebrate.” agreed Vision, and was it your eyes or he floated imperceptibly closer to Wanda?

You had no way of proving it, because with a silvery dash, a man appeared, elbowing his way in between the couple.

“You were monopolizing the rookie.” he complained jovially with Wanda’s same thick accent. Then he made a point of looking you up and down appraisingly, before extending his hand. You took it, and he brought your knuckles to his lips, winking when you brushed skin.

“Pietro Maximoff, but women so beautiful can call me whenever they want.” he flirted, and Wanda scoffed derisively, a flash of crimson by his ribs and Pietro jumped straight with a wince.

“My, you move fast, don’t you?” you teased, offering him a perfect rebuke. His eyes shone with mischief and he dashed away, to reappear a heartbeat later by your side, offering you a plate of vol-au-vent.

“I’m the fastest.” he murmured in your ear.

“Aw. Not many men would admit to it so easily. But don’t despair, there are cures.” you quipped back, and he retreated snickering, as did the people nearby.

“Bet you didn’t see _that_ coming!” Clint hollered from the couch, way too happy to be able to throw the catchphrase back at the speedster.

Natasha steered you to a corner of the room soon after, where Steve introduced King T’challa and Okoye from Wakanda.

“Your majesty, it’s an honor to meet you. I heard wonders about your country.”

“Thank you, Ms. Anton. Every Wakandan takes pride in the good reputation of our home. I look forward working with you.”

“Likewise.” after a moment of hesitation, you called out. “Also…” he looked at you expectantly, and you continued, under Okoye’s scrutinizing stare. “Among the wonders I heard about, is also the prodigy of your sister’s inventions. I’d be in need of her assistance on a personal project that’s proving itself stubborn.”

T’challa’s eyes glinted, but Steve intervened sternly “I’d be resistant to involve the king’s young sister in _your_ kind of projects.” After this long you thought you’d be more used to the despise many people threw at you in lieu of your job. Still, maybe opening up about the difficulty of your private project had left you vulnerable, because Steven’s disapproval kept ringing in your mind, slowly turning into the many variations of “slut” people had thrown at you during the years. You weren’t one for cowering, tough.

“I’m in need of particularly adaptive contact lenses I can’t seem to obtain on my own. I wasn’t aware it was inappropriate to ask for Princess Shuri’s assistance in developing eye devices, my apologies.” you answered back, iron in your tone, and you saw the Captain’s face shift in embarrassment at his misstep, while T’challa suppressed a grin and Okoye’s lips twitched, after they had thinned for Steve’s previous words.

“I’ll put in a word with Shuri. She’ll get in touch with you soon. She’s spoken highly of your technology, given the restricted means you have in America.” T’challa said, a playful smirk still in place.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded his head goodbye and began to leave, Okoye remained behind a moment. “The rhino sanctuary you funded last year is a good project.” she whispered, before following her king quickly. You slipped two gift-cards and a thank-you-for-welcoming-me note in her hand before she went, like you managed to discreetly distribute the rest to the others through the course of the party.

Now you were alone with the Captain, who seemed to be grappling with his previous blunder, mixed with his unrelenting disapproval. Unlucky for him, you weren’t in a forgiving mood. You put on a calm mask and curved your lips minutely, leaning a bit in his space. You took your glasses off, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open and fixed in his blue ones, even if the light from the waning sun painted the side of his face an incandescent shade of orange, and you could barely make out the outlines of the other people and objects in the room, as bathed as they were in the twilight light. You let part of that luminescence seep into your skin, dimming the brightness of the room. Then Clint turned on a large lamp, unthinkingly.

You couldn’t contain a small flinch. Dammit. Even the sunlight in the room returned to be brighter, forcing you to retrocede a little, your head throbbing in pain. The lamp was suddenly blocked from your sight, the Captain’s large torso placed between you. When you lifted your eyes to his face, Steve was staring right back at you, his gaze intense under those long eyelashes and a somewhat bewitched expression on his face. He leant in a bit, his previous belligerence gone, and in that moment, you paused, unsure if an argument was really what you wanted.

*+*+*+*+*+*

T’challa had just left, and now Y/N had turned to him, a surprisingly calm expression on her lovely face. It made him feel worse for his assumptions of a few minutes before. But, honestly, she had done nothing but come up with indecent proposals and quips since he met her, how was he to know she wasn’t going to cause a diplomatic accident with that wicked, alluring mouth of hers?

Y/N had moved closer, quite close, now, and she had pulled her sunglasses off. He could see her fighting a scowl at how bright the light must be for her, but the thought got lost when she kept her eyes stubbornly open and met his gaze. Her pale silver irises had become large pools of molten bronze with the orange hues of the twilight. Her smooth skin didn’t seem to catch the light in the same way as the rest of the world, either: the sunrays were more delicate against her, almost seeping in and making her glow of her own right, rather than simply reflecting against her. She was gorgeous.

Suddenly, a light was switched on nearby and she flinched back, the sunlight in the room brighter, too. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed and her eyes barely open. Still she tried to school her face into a neutral expression, instead of putting her glasses back on. He wondered if this is how Bucky felt when watching him getting into a fistfight before the serum. He moved a step on the left and shielded her from the lamp, maybe it would help. She relaxed and glanced his way. He felt her eyes slide from his chest up to his face and couldn’t stop the warm feeling that rose with it. She looked uncertain, now, her lips parted but with no words spilling from them. He couldn’t help but leaning in, and when she kept looking torn, Steve decided to own up to his actions.

“I apologize for assuming, earlier.” when she stared he kept going, rambling “I didn’t know you were aiming for contact lenses. I hope princess Shuri can help you, you have pretty eyes…I mean, it would be good to see them more often… Not that you look bad in sunglasses… Anyway, sorry, I thought you were about to ask for help on one of those…uh, _things_ your shop sells, and that could have been very embarrassing for everyone involved so…But you didn’t, and I was wrong, so, that’s good…”

The more he spoke, the more he saw Y/N’s beautiful soft expression fall, those incredible eyes of her going from warm to steely, and that only made him ramble more, until she spoke, her voice low, velvety like he had come to recognize it.

“I accept your apology for misunderstanding.” then a thought made her let out an amused snort. “You know, Captain, when I got my degree, they asked me to give a speech. I was a couple months short of fourteen and felt embarrassed that all the other women in there were fully developed and beautiful. I stuffed my bra full of tissues but on the way to the reading stand, some of them fell out, leaving a trail on the stage for everyone to see.”

Steve stared at her, taken aback from the embarrassing recount. Why would she tell him something like this, when they barely knew each other? She didn’t even blush, she looked just stern. Before he could ask, she spoke again, voice sharp.

“Just so next time you’ll have something to use I will actually feel ashamed about. You will never obtain the same result bringing up my job.” she leant back, a last hard stare at him, and walked away to Tony and Rhodey’s side. The billionaire glanced at him suspiciously but then had Y/N laugh in minutes.

“Way to go, Rogers!” he berated himself under his breath, before regrouping with Bucky and Sam for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in full finals season, and I write this fic piece by piece, so updaes might not be frequent.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day on the job

Your alarm clock rang at ass crack o’clock in the morning. More precisely, your whole room began blaring an insufferable ring at ungodly volume until you rolled out of bed, squinting and groaning. Friday spoke up in a seraphic tone.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/N. The day is sunny, I will hold the glasses at maximum shade until further instructions. Breakfast is available in the kitchen, I can list you who is already eating, or at what time it is more probable to meet the other members there. Your training begins in the gym at nine, I strongly suggest to be done with breakfast at least half an hour before then, as to avoid accidents. The cleaning staff was pretty unnerved last time.”

“Friday, what time is it!?” you grunted, crawling on your feet and squinting at the faint grey halo that was the sun through your tinted windows. It was disgustingly low on the horizon.

“It’s two minutes and twenty-six seconds past seven. Twenty-seven, eight, nine…”

“Ok, ok. Got it. Why?”

“Your training is scheduled at nine o’clock. I lack data on your morning routines, so I averaged two hours as an optimal period of time to get ready.”

“Friday, there’s no data about my morning routine because I don’t do mornings…I usually get in bed, like, half an hour ago.” you whined.

“I’m afraid that kind of time management won’t do in this environment.” and wow, did Tony know Pepper’s disapproving tone, to reproduce it this well.

“Friday, do you know what the sun does from five in the morning until two in the afternoon?”

“It rises and shines, Ms. Y/N. A habit you will imitate as long as you stay.”

“Why can’t I do nights like always? What if someone attacks at night and everybody’s snoozing?”

“Then the training you’re having at nine will prove very useful.”

It was too early for you to come up with anything but wordless grumbling as you slipped in the bathroom.

*+*+*+*+*+*

When you finally crouched on one of the kitchen stools, your head inevitably falling on your bent knee, it was about a quarter past eight and only Clint and Sam were there. The latter slid a large mug of fresh coffee in front of you. With not enough brain power to thank him adequately, you pulled your smartphone out of your sweater’s pocket, tinkered with it for a couple of seconds, and put it away when Sam’s phone vibrated with a notification. He opened it and spluttered, his latte spraying on the counter and dribbling don his chin, but you were too engrossed in pouring as much sugar in your cup as it could fit to care.

“Did you just pay me a hundred bucks for passing you coffee!?” Sam sounded choked.

“It’s before noon. Coffee got pretty high on my priority list. I wanted to thank you right.” you mumbled, sipping the syrupy concoction and feeling more human by the minute.

“Partied all night, rookie?” asked Clint, on his way to the sink.

“No. It’s just harder to function with daylight on every side. This must be the first morning I see in about two years. I feel jetlagged.” you grumble.

“Wait, really? No wake up before noon in years? I thought millionaires joked when they said that!”

“Dude, I still stay awake my eighteen hours a day, just not in daytime. I get to ditch the glasses at night.”

“You’re more and more vampire-ish the more I get to know you.” the archer joked, patting your back on his way out. “Ohi, Dracula, you’d better hurry up, you’re with Nat and Steve this morning!” he called out from behind the corner.

Great, just peachy. You really needed more time around Sanctimonious Rogers.

*+*+*+*+*+*

The moment you saw Steve, waiting on the railings above the gym, solemnly rooted on the spot, your mind jumped to the Game of Thrones scene, the one with the Titan of Braavos’ statue. And here you had a Titan all for yourself, as pretty as he was sour-looking. When you entered, he joined you by the mats, and Natasha gave you the hugest scare of your life when she appeared behind you out of thin air.

“You’re late.” he pointed out, his chin jerking to the large clock on the wall. You glanced in that direction and gave up. Even with your glasses on, the white wall reflecting the light from the huge windows glowed like a full moon. And since the full moon was the sun to you...

“Believe me, you have no idea how early I am.” you muttered under your breath. Steve’s judgmental eyebrow-arching intensified.

“Today we’re going to assess your capabilities, then we’ll plan your training accordingly.”

“Anything to declare?” Natasha asked, a playful mock-border-inspector tone.

“I got a Karate brown belt from the middle-schooler courses, and I practiced kickboxing with Tony for a while, but then he began breaking his bones so often I’m afraid of patting his back and reopening a spine fracture, now. My Capoeira pals got me in touch with the kickboxing group at my usual gym, but their schedules didn’t work well with mine.”

“I couldn’t fathom why.” Steve deadpanned. Nat elbowed him, mouthing a “be nice” that was echoed more loudly from Bucky, who was exercising in the corner. You opted for a small glare.

“Whatever you say, you know me so well. Back to training. What now?”

Your question put a wicked grin on the Russian’s face.

“Now you demonstrate! Steve, you’re up.” and she shoved him a step forward, closer to you, leaving the mats. Cap and you exchanged a questioning glance, then you shrugged and took position. Your will to punch Mr. Holier-than-thou had just surfaced. You looked at Nat.

“How do we do it?”

“Just go and try to make Steve land on his ass in any way you can. No powers.”

“Yes, ma’am. Man, do I like my women in charge…”

“Focus, Anton.” the Captain chastised, getting in a defensive position.

“Wow, everyone’s so bossy around here…You’ll make my heart stop.” you teased, getting a rise out of Steven, who straightened to his full height.

“Will you just stop wasting time and get on with the training!?” he exclaimed, and you grinned, moving closer to him.

“Ow” you pouted, taking another step “but all work and no play makes Steve a dull boy. Wouldn’t you like to play with me, Captain?” You were chest to chest, now, and he was glaring daggers at you, even if his cheeks were dusted pink.

“I want to train, Y/N. And you should, too, instead of acting like a spoi- Whoa!” he exclaimed, when the ankle you had hooked behind his foot did its work and he tripped when you shoved him, landing him on his deliciously shaped butt. You winked at him and resumed position a few steps back. Looking at Natasha, she was pointedly ignoring the laughing Winter Soldier by the punching bags.

“One for me. Or does my cuteness count as superpower?”

“Don’t’ push it, Y/N, you’re cute, but you’re not Bucky-napping-curled-around-a-pillow cute.”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

“It never happened!” the man chimed in.

“Sure it didn’t.” Nat cooed back, and you were snickering when someone grabbed you, hurled you around their shoulder and smashed you in the mats. It was all so quick your glasses didn’t even fall away.

Bucky sighed loudly, and Natasha’s amusement was more silent now. You, in the meantime, were enjoying a rare view of Captain America from an ant’s perspective, while you recovered from the hit. He didn’t look _too_ smug.

“What the hell, Rogers!?” the words were out of your mouth instantly.

“Always be conscious of your surroundings.” he stated and extended his hand to you.

“Yeah, and of jerks who come at you from behind!” you accused, eyeing it, then him.

“Is it a trick?” you asked. There was no doubt the guy could toss you around onehanded, if he wanted. His face darkened in a kind of sad way.

“No tricks, not from comrades.” he promised.

You took his hand.

Once up, you pressed a small button on each hinge of your glasses, and the gears you had built in them whirred to life. The rim stuck lightly but firmly to your face with a suction cup mechanism, while the temples elongated until they clasped together on the back of your head, keeping the lenses even more firm on your eyes. Steve was watching you with a pensive expression.

“Better safe than sorry.” You said.

“Sam could use a re-design of his glasses too. Yours seem functional, his are held up by an elastic band.”

“I’ll give them a look.”

The next rounds counted much less mind-tricks and much more roundhouse kicks. As if they worked. No matter what you threw at him, Steve always saw it coming. By the ninth time you fell on the mat, you had pretty much tried out all the moves you knew. Time to get creative.

Getting creative ended you on Steve’s back, stuck to his torso like a frigging koala to its tree, hoping to break his balance with your weight. He had the guts to snicker.

“I could jump down on my back and crush you, right now. So, how are we gonna do this?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Fuck it.” You grumbled and climbed down. His lips were still curved upwards and his eyes shone with amusement when he turned to face you. This look suited him much better, in your opinion. Still, you couldn’t help but pout at the umpteenth failure. Maybe it was a bit too mean a glare, because Cap seemed to take pause watching you. But then he met Nat’s eyes and snapped out of it, clearing his throat and refocusing on you. As did the spy.

“You know, Anton, for someone with that smart a mouth, I kind of expected you to handle yourself better in a fight.” Natasha said, rubbing salt on your wounded ego.

“I’ll let you know that I got out on top of every barfight my charming personality got me into, Romanoff. It just so happens that super-soldiers and I go to different clubs.”

“I knew you were trouble! What did you do, sassy-pants, a pun too much to the wrong guy?”

“I used to romance the wrong guys’ girlfriends. What can I say? I felt young and invincible.” You sighed, then winked at her “And irresistible, too.”

“Well, Don _Juanne_ , if you want to survive doing the same with a super-dude’s lady, you’ll have a lot of work to do.”

“Bring it on, Red. I owe the Captain a few rough landings.”

The rest of the morning was spent with Natasha giving you pointers on how to use your size to your advantage in a fight against larger opponents. Steve ended up playing mannequin for the two of you and correcting you when your blows’ aim was off. You had just got the hang of it when the Captain and Black Widow stopped for lunch-break. You let them go on, focusing on an interactive mannequin Friday provided. Nat’s voice called from the door as you swung a kick to the mannequin’s abdomen as the spy had taught you.

“Hey, Y/N, don’t overdo it: you got me and Steve for that! If you’re not upstairs in two hours I’ll send Tony.”

“Duly noted! See you later.”

*+*+*+*+*+*

Steve walked in silence, hoping against all hope that Nat would spare him. They didn’t reach the end of the corridor before her smug voice piped up.

“You like her.”

“It’s debatable. She’s perseverant and seems dedicated, for now. I can respect that.”

“You’re still a terrible liar, Steve. I was there, remember? Or did the butterflies in your stomach make you forget it?” Red teased.

“You’re delusional.” He rebuked, knowing it wouldn’t dissuade her.

“And you totally thought Y/N was cute when she pouted. You were _staaaring_!” she reminded him in a sing-song tone.

He gave up and kept marching to the kitchen with a pout of his own.

*+*+*+*+*+*

You had been battling a stubborn polymer mix in the lab for hours, now, and the results frustrated you to no end. If you managed to make it completely adaptable to light, it crystallized in a very un-malleable lump. If you kept it flexible enough to shape contact lenses with it, it didn’t shield your eyes enough; if you applied to said lenses a treatment that would make them more useful to your purposes, well, they became highly toxic upon skin contact.

You were at your wits end when Tony strode into the lab with a grin that didn’t really reach his eyes. Those crinkles were from worry, not happiness. It was subtle, but by now you had a dictionary of all his micro-expressions in your head.

“You know, it took me a life-threatening situation on a crashing helicarrier to become civil with Rogers. You did it in a morning. My ego is a bit bruised.” He exclaimed.

“So is my back. Turns out letting the Captain kick your butt for a few hours goes a long way in making him acknowledge you’re a human being.” You answered, turning your eyes back on the lump of goo on the work-table.

“Ooh. I know what you’re doing! The very scientific method of glaring a faulty prototype into submission. I’m familiar with that. How far along are you on the scale from ‘mumbling? to trashing the lab in anger?” He mocked, getting beside you and leaning forward to observe your latest failure with fascination.

“I need your suit’s blue-prints.” You ground out, voice assorted like it always was when you were planning something mean.

“You can’t kick me with my own suit.” Tony informed.

“ _Kicking_ was not what I was thinking about.” You hinted and his eyes widened once he grasped your meaning.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ll consider it flattering, but why start with Iron Man? I believed you’d be half-way through a Cap prototype, by now.”

“Your suit is kind of the easiest one to adapt into a product for my next line.” You explained, then your lips stretched in a mischievous grin. “And the shipment of vibranium I bought from Wakanda is taking forever to get here” you added, earning a chuckle from your friend.

“For a moment I though you were getting soft for Rogers’ pretty blues.”

“Not a chance! But Pretty Blue is a really good name for what I’m planning. I’ll have to remember it.” You mumbled.

“I’ll even let you take the credit for it, as long as you let me assist to the product launch. I wouldn’t miss Cap’s face for the world.”

“Deal.”

You began cleaning up your desk in silence for a few moments and watched Tony rub at his old shoulder wound in the corner of your eye. That always spelled trouble. Well, more of an inconvenience than a full-blown crisis, so maybe you wouldn’t have to don a super-suit so soon into your new job.

“Out with it, Stark.” You said and saw him grimacing and roll his eyes at being read so easily.

“News of your recruitment got out in some higher up circles. Not the press, yet, but…”

“ _They_ know.” You extrapolated.

“They tried to get me through Pepper this morning. She slammed the phone in their faces, you’d think a smart person would have gotten the message.” He grumbled and you sighed.

“They were never good at listening to begin with. I get it they tried again?”

“Ross must have given them my encrypted mail address for Avengers stuff. They demanded entrance to the base, to come and congratulate you in person, they said.”

“I hope you told them they could go fuck themselves.” You growled, your shoulder tensing at the mere idea.

“Sorry, kid, Pep is teaching me to be more veiled in my answers.” He said and forwarded his answering mail to the holographic screen above your desk. You clicked it open and proceeded to curl on the floor, wheezing from laughter. The mail contained a single image: a huge dildo with your brand engraved on it, and the words “your congratulations” photoshopped in bold letters by the tip.

The moment you got some air in your lungs again, you used it to profess to Tony your undying love. Crawling back on your feet after laughing so much took you a minute, but then you rapidly dismissed the screen and the leftover material on your desk, and after locking the la you headed to the kitchen with Tony for a celebratory glass of wine.

A few minute in, Nat and Wanda and Sam joined you on the couches with drinks of their own and that’s how you spent the rest of time before dinner, and by the time you were done with that, too, the early wake up and training of that morning caught up with you, landing you straight to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, let me know what you think of the result!


	4. Chapter 4

The training began to give results after a few more weeks of early mornings, innumerable running laps around the compound under Steve’s ~~sadistic~~ watchful eye, and decidedly too many hours on the mats with Nat. Sam and Bucky took over your weights regime after only a few days from the beginning of your “internship”. All four of your trainers were adamant that, for now, you only got to work on your natural physical abilities: no powers till you managed to stand your own in a one-on-one against Rogers. It almost felt like being grounded.

It reminded you of the time you really were grounded, along with the Captain. It was after the two of you managed to argue for two days straight, sun-up to sun-down, during the first week of your permanence in the Facility. It just might not have been _completely_ Rogers’ fault, that once. But just marginally.

You couldn’t remember what you were saying, exactly.

**_*Those two days*_ **

You were playing with double-meanings with Nat and Wanda at the kitchen counter, Sam and Clint adding a cheeky comment here and there from the little table where they were playing cards, when Steve had wondered in. At first you thought nothing of it, keeping up your game with the girls, but by the time he reached the fridge, the Captain’s voice rang out, scolding you. Openly. In front of everybody. Again. The words that set it all off sprung from your mouth instantly (and you still didn’t fully regret them). You played it cool, sipping nonchalantly from your mug and speaking casually, staring right in front of you.

“Paraphrasing Jesus in all his wisdom: _‘Before calling me out for the teeny-tiny plug in my butt, make sure to pull that humongous broomstick out of your ass.’_ Words to live by, Captain.”

It was worth it just for the six different shades of purple Rogers’ face took while Clint and Sam were trying to regain their breath from laughing so hard.

“ _Of course_ you’d play it out like this. I don’t know what more I was expecting from someone like _you_.”

Steven’s words made the air freeze and the laughters die out instantly. Nat and Sam were about to say something. Maybe you should have let them. Maybe if you waited, you’d have seen the instant regret on Steve’s face. But you didn’t. You were seeing red.

“ _Someone like me_? Captain, you couldn’t normally approach someone like me if you tried. You don’t have the balls for it!” You challenged, rounding on him, staring at him openly, shoulders back and chin high. Daring him to respond. For the first time since you met him, he didn’t let you down.

“And obviously, people’s balls are all that matters to you! I’ve met plenty of people like you! Brass, arrogant, _obscene_. Trampling over propriety and common decency at all times just to fashion yourselves as revolutionary. You’re just rude.”

“Oh, forgive me for having forgotten my Bible and Puritan choirs back in the middle-ages where they belong, _Preacher_ America.” You mocked, and boy, did you really sound so vicious? A breath later your anger had already spurned you on. “I’m not stupid, Captain. I chose too delicate a profession to even think of trespassing people’s comfort zones. I can discern perfectly how, when and with whom bring up certain subjects without your holier-than-thou input, I assure you.” You drawled.

“Can you? Really?! Cause that’s not what I’ve seen. Since I met you you’ve done nothing but flaunt your ways to anyone you crossed paths with!” he rebuked, a thick vein bulging on his neck.

“Did I, now? Or are you a little too much on my case? I’m _flirty_ , Captain. A trait of my personality I’ll make sure to not show around you again, since it upsets you so much!” your voice rose.

“I have nothing against your personality!” he exclaimed, his voice ringing louder in the room. His eyes locked with your lenses covered ones too intensely for either of you to notice Wanda and Sam slipping out of the room; nor Clint and Nat sliding in a corner from where they could be out of the way, but break you apart in mere moments should things escalate. Somehow, you were absolutely certain Steve would never let anything of that kind happen, no matter how loud your argument could get. And it did get loud.

“Only against my life choices! Well, guess what: I’m an under-30 multi-millionaire profiting out of people’s pleasure rather than cashing in on their poor health, or selling them additive-filled food, or _war bonds_ to keep sending teenage kids to blow up or be blown up by other kids around the world! But I guess you’d know better than me about _that_ , Captain.” And if he was really going to keep undermining you around everybody in the team just ‘cause he couldn’t let you live your life in peace, then he should have been prepared for you to reciprocate his low blows. It didn’t make your conscience sting less, but the anger certainly worked as a good anesthetic.

“The war bonds were never my choice, but at least I did my part in protecting people, instead of staying holed up in an ivory tower building fake-genitals!” and a lesser person would have pissed themselves at having such a man displaying so much anger at them. You weren’t that kind of person, today. You met his insult with a spark of cold amusement. Sometimes it scared you how similar to Tony you were.

“ _Marvelously designed_ fake-genitals, you mean.” You tutted condescendingly, just to see how much brighter the red in his cheeks could grow. “And you’ll also like to know that said ‘fake-genitals’ sponsored hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of scholarships, free schools in disadvantaged neighborhoods, medical research, mental support for veterans, women shelters, youth shelters, Lgbt shelters, free medical facilities for those fucked over by insurance companies…” you listed fiery. Then leaned closer, inches away from Steve’s own face, glaring at him fiercely, but speaking coldly. “If my congratulations for punching away alien threats will ease your mind, then take them, they’re yours. But don’t you ever again dare tell me I don’t help people only because I don’t want to get physical to do it.”

He hissed, leaning back and puffing out his chest, opening his arms wide in exasperation.

“Then why are you even here, to begin with!?”

“Because Tony asked me to!” you yelled back before thinking, then cursed yourself. Fuck, you had just given him as wide an opening as one could get, and you had dragged Tony in the mess. You tried to not give your fears away by glaring at Steve even harder, trying to conveying just whom Tony needed you to cover for.

Rogers let his arms fall to his sides, but his shoulders straightened even more. His brows furrowed, his eyes blazing, staring at you, scorching.  The amount of raw emotion in them made you want to run. He parted his lips, about to give you an even larger piece of his mind, but Tony himself, along with Bucky and a returned Sam and Wanda broke the two of you apart, dragging you out of different sides of the room.

They kept you apart ‘till dinner, trusting you had calmed down. Only to be disappointed, and a little awed, by how you two could get from a little snort and a silent roll of your eyes to an ear-splitting argument so quickly. And it could have been such a nice evening…you were having meatballs, for heaven’s sake!

The morning after the team forcibly kept you away from each other until everyone was done with their breakfast. Nat and Tony kind of hoped that punching it out in training would help you get it over with. But even the training had to be cut short when a veiledly snide comment and consequent rebuke caused your fist to burn through Steve’s padding until the skin was visible in the seared hole of his shirt. When you saw it, you were petrified. Bucky and Tony had to pry you off of him, but not before you could witness awareness downing in Steve’s eyes, and the quick glint of instinctual fear in them as they snapped up to yours. You let Tony pull you a few steps away, and by the time Buck had pulled Steven up, an unnatural dusk had already fallen on the room, and it kept darkening.

“Anton.” The Captein called. You couldn’t even recall what tone he used, but your name on his lips, after what just happened, made you flinch and recoil a bit into Tony’s side.

“Get out.” You hoped it was loud enough, you had barely felt the air pass your lips.

“What!?” his offended hiss was answer enough, but you really couldn’t care for his ego at the moment.

“Get out. Just once in your life do as you’re told and. Get. Out.” You ranted, and the air around you almost vibrated as it darkened to an early-night shade.

As if that could help. You heard Steve’s stomped step forward. Fortunately, Buck intervened, and Tony moved to shield you a little. The two super-soldiers murmured for a while before something changed.

You refused to move another muscle until he was out of your sight, half withering angry and half terrified of seriously losing control and really hurt him. He was seething, but left, storming out and running laps well into the afternoon. And still, not even exhaustion could stop the two of you from getting into a screaming match over dinner.

After that, the team gave up, and resolved to just keep you apart for a while.

Your time to roam the compound was strictly timed so that you and Rogers couldn’t both be in the same room at the same time, ever. You tried to stay in the kitchen beyond your allotted time once, out of spite: Friday opened the fire-extinguishers on you until you were shooed out of the room, soaked. During that time, Friday stood in for Steve during your trainings with Natasha, giving you plenty of useful insight on the Captain’s fighting style and more prominent tells. And Tony was given the task of talking you into trying and be more empathetic with Rogers. He tried.

**_*Present time*_ **

Natasha huffed, laying against Bucky’s chest, on the couch, watching the two resident hotheads tiptoeing around each other at the kitchen counter. Valerie and Steve had been allowed to share spaces again for a few weeks, now, yet still, watching them interact was almost painful with how stilted and forced it was.

She watched as those two agonized over having to move in the kitchen to make themselves some coffee, while trying to not seem confrontational. In any way. But without outright ignoring the other. Because, rude. And at the slightest hint of perceived rudeness all hell would break loose.

“The days are getting shorter. Let’s hope it doesn’t get cold too soon.” Valerie said, to avoid an awkward silence. Black Widow felt the intense impulse to smash her head on the coffee table. Not the weather again.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be good for running laps outside. It would be a pity to have to stop. Your times have gotten better lately.” Uugh. Steeeve. Why?

“Hm. Good to hear it. We’d still get the combat training in the mornings, tough.” Yes, the spy mentally cheered, plenty of time to roll around, limbs tangled, adrenaline kicking in.

“Of course. Tomorrow’s gonna be a review of the defense moves.” Why, why did god have to waste such a pretty face on such a lost cause of a man?

“Seems legit. You’re definitely gonna need those in our next sparring match.” She didn’t…Oh, she did! Playful banter! Finally!

“Excuse you?” Oooh! Fake-stern Captain voice! She’d bet her last penny Steve threw a cocked hip and an  arched eyebrow in the mix as well! Oh, please, please, please, make this a development...

“Ah, dang it. Nothing! It was nothing. I…eh…I need to check a thing in the lab. See you around.”

No. No! No, no, no, no, no! Stop! Stop, you damn fool! He was joking! He wasn’t serious! Anton don’t you dare get past that door! Steve, Steven, come on, Pretty Boy, say something!

“Wha- Oh. Oh, ok, yeah, sure. Hum…See you later.”

Anything! Anything but that! You have a dictionary full of words and you chose _those_!?! Where… where did we ever go wrong with you!?

Nat huffed again. Deep and loud. They were so promising…She was so sure Cap would finally get a date, with a little prodding, and instead her best bet couldn’t stay in the same room as him for more than a few minutes!

She grumbled and squirmed and sulked, until Bucky’s arms circled her and he nuzzled in the curve of her neck.

“You know you can’t kill them. They won’t get together if you kill’em.”

“You should have whacked him more often, back in your time.” She mumbled, morose.

“Nope. Not my fault. He got beat up enough for a lifetime, and it still didn’t help. He was _born_ dense as a brick wall, that one.”

“But Valerie! Wasn’t she supposed to be the smart one?” the redhead whined, cuddling her murderous lover.

“They’ll work themselves out, doll. Last time Peggy had to empty a revolver against him for the message to stick.”

“…” Nat went still.

“You’re scary when you’re silent, babe.”

“Do you think Valerie will prefer a Glock or a Winchester?”

“Natalia, no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking so long! I've been without internet connection for three months now, happy to be finally able to upload. Already half-way through chap 5, so maybe it won't take as long. Feel free to let me know what you think about this one!


	5. Chapter 5

In the wake of your newfound civility with Rogers, it didn’t take long for the others to do what your frequent quarrels with the Captain had avoided till then. They began asking questions.

“So, My Little Sunshine, how did you end up with your powers?”  Sam asked one evening, out of the blue, while you and the rest of the team were sprawled around on couches and armchairs after a long day. It wasn’t unusual, for you all to end up laying around in the common room, a cold beer in hand and uncomfortably deep questions popping out from time to time. It just had never yet happened that one of those questions was for you. Your mind scrambled for an answer that would satisfy them without revealing _all_ the truth. The prolonged silence prompted several heads to turn to you and stare curiously.

“Uh…I, what…Huh?” was the eloquent mumble that slipped from your mouth.

Sam chuckled, fished another beer from the cooler and handed it to you, repeating his question.

“You know, like, Tony built his suit in the desert with bomb shards in his heart, Steve and Grumpy were injected super-juice during WWII, Clint got too into Robin Hood cosplay when he was little. So, what’s your jam, what made you this way?”

None of them pushed you, when your brows creased in concentration and gloom, and the silence stretched. Not even Tony knew just what had happened to you, and you could read it in his eyes that he was curious. But he was also ready to jump in and derail the conversation at a moment’s notice, should you sign to him you weren’t ready. It warmed your heart like always, and gave you that bit of confidence boost you needed.

“Lab accident.” You admitted. Bruce winced sympathetically from the stuffed armchair at Clint’s left. You took a deep breath. The others were kind enough to not point out it was shaky. You began recounting.

“I had just got my degree. I was swept into this military project before I could even process what was going on…” your fist clenched, hidden between your body and the back of the couch. You had to let go when the fistful of sweater you were clenching sizzled to ash as your palm lit up, incandescent. Thankfully no one saw. You continued. “They had acquired a DNA sample from some scary-powerful someone, and wanted me to extract the power source from it and make it replicable. The calculations alone took me three months. Anyway, I get the protocol ready, the machinery set, the sample inserted. All is ready. ‘Cept that one of the other egregious professors subordinated to work on a segment of the machine underestimated just how bad shit could go. He forgot, or he didn’t care enough, or he really was that bitter about working under my direction that he did it on purpose, I don’t know. I’ll never know. But he didn’t line one segment to the other quite right.” You stopped to breathe deeply, before your voice could turn any sourer. When you spoke again, your words were an impassionate recount of what the military reports said about the accident. “The adjoined iridium mirror shifted. 0.8667 degrees right, 0.9135 degrees up. When the machine got turned on, the energy beam hit the sample, irradiated it, destroyed it, but entered the circuit correctly. Then it landed on Mirror 452. It ricocheted. The unlined segments of the circuit broke apart and the energy bounced from one reinforced surface to the other. Until it didn’t.” you snorted. Putting on the calm businesswoman mask was quicker, this time. “The protective glass I was behind was built to shield us from the light of the final compound, not to withstand that amount of direct irradiation. The ray hit right in front of me, the glass melted in a moment and the energy invested me full front.” Your hand pushed on your sternum, replicating a fraction of the phantom pressure you still felt when recalling those moments. You shook your head and pressed forth, sharp and prideful. “The fact I survived is proof enough that my calculations were right. My powers are slightly different from the original, but prove that my calculations were _absolutely_ right. The frigging collateral effects” you pointed at your dark glasses “prove that you never ever trust military officials to know the difference between brilliant scientists and egomaniacal fuckups from Frickabilly’s College who I bet printed their degree from the internet.” you concluded.

No one spoke for a while, then Rhodey’s voice piped up.

“Can confirm. The military hired Armie Hammer, once.” He paused and the glint in his eyes made you smile in anticipation. “But they also hired Tony. And I’m never quite sure what side of that line _he_ ’s on…”

That got a chuckle from most of the group, and an affronted scoff from the billionaire.

“What do you mean!? We’re the genius hot messes! Tell him, Y/N!” he called at you and you laughed.

“Piping hot!” you confirmed cheerily, stretching out your arms and sending sparks flying from your fingertips for good measure. Rhodey stared for a moment, then rolled his eyes at your antics, mumbling something about you, Tony, and show-offs, sending you into another fit of giggles.

When that subsided, you took the chance to play with your powers, now that you were off-training for the weekend, and sent little specks of light to float around the darkening room like fireflies. Your new teammates ooh-ed and aah-ed at the show, everyone relaxing watching the lull of the light-lings’ movement. Bucky hummed, resting his head on Nat’s legs, letting her pet and braid his hair softly. Wanda and Vision cuddled closer under a blanket, while Pietro, Clint and Sam shared yet another beer. Thor sat on the carpet, his back against one of the couches, a gleeful grin on his face as he delicately tried to catch the sparkles that flew closer to him in his hand. A few armchairs away Tony was trying, and failing, to take a video of the lights, with Rhodey teasing him in low murmurs until your friend gave up and turned to him, starting another of their banters. As for you, you were just happy to sit there, cross-legged and half-drowning in warm, oversized sweaters, enjoying the peaceful floating of the stardust-like lights and the quiet of the room. It was only after a couple of minutes that you felt eyes on you.

***+*+*+*+*+***

Steve had been ready to call it a night the moment Y/N began to send out sparkles like a firework, raising at Tony’s bait, proclaiming the two geniuses’ attractiveness. Heaven knows what train of thought that comment would get her in. He really wasn’t up for another ruinous attempt at getting some propriety in her.

He was about to rise from his armchair, when the soft aww-ing of the others stopped him. He looked up, and saw hundreds of tiny dust-like sparkles filling the space round them, wading lazily through the air. He leant back in the soft armchair cushions and stared, feeling his muscles go lax and his mind quiet down almost involuntarily. He couldn’t remember the last time a team night off had been this peaceful. Nor the last time in the last few months he had felt this relaxed.

He let his eyes sweep over the room, to get a full picture of the scene, and in doing so, his sight finally landed on the curled over figure sinking on the far side of the couch beside him. Her knitted wool sweater dwarfed her, almost reaching her knees, her hands laying lightly in her lap as she watched her own lights with a heart wrenchingly soft smile, her eyes liquid pools of molten silver and gold. He realized he had never seen her this at peace before. Not for the first time, he wondered what really laid behind her everchanging mask. What lurked underneath the boastfulness and bravado to make her look so haunted and wistful in the rare moments her mind wondered and her demons caught up with her.

For now, tough, with her fingers curled gently around her crossed ankles and her mesmerizing eyes fixed on the lights, there was no trace of dark thoughts in her, and her whole self was glowing imperceptibly of a warm hue. He found himself smiling at the thought she probably wasn’t even aware she was doing it. Like this, her skin gleaming delicately and a rolling sea of shimmers in the air, he was reminded of the many paintings in the museum that tried to picture the moon personified and her stars. Watching her now, he could claim none of them quite caught the essence of it. He wished he had his sketchbook with him, but then again, he probably wouldn’t be able to do her justice either. His fingers itched to try, tough. Whether to draw her, or to touch her, they still weren’t sure. If he laced their hands, would her fingers feel warmer, or colder, while glowing like that? Part of him wondered, part of him wanted to go and find out, and another part of him was ready to shove those thoughts back down in his guts from where they’d come from.

Y/N turned suddenly, and her eyes caught his right as he was about to do just that, sending all his carefully repressed wishes to roll over themselves in a panic. Pinned by her magnetic irises, finally able to see her face fully, he couldn’t bring himself to stop staring. The proper and well-educated part of him finally broke through when her cheeks flushed, batting away the wish to keep watching, and he got himself under control again. He bashfully ducked his head a little, but still found her eyes on him when he lifted his own, so he pulled his lips in a tiny smile, jerked his head towards the still floating stardust, that now sported a few agitated swirls in its midst, and made his smile grow bigger for Y/N. Her plump lips gaped for a moment, her eyes large and surprised, but then, with the next flush of blood to her cheeks, the glow in her skin turned a notch brighter. She opened in a smile of her own, and her expression turned playful. He didn’t have time to worry, that one bright flicker of those flying about, descended in convoluted swirls towards his face and landed right on the tip of his nose, warming it like an inverted snowflake. He couldn’t help but snort in amusement, breaking the silence and peace.

The others rounded on him curious, but before he could even figure out what to say, Bucky had let out an even louder snort of a laughter, and was staring at Sam. Sam who was now sporting a huge, flickering handlebar mustache entirely crafted out of Y/N’s stardust. It was pretty hilarious. Steve looked back at Y/N, who was now grinning wide, amused and carefree, for the first time joking _with_ him, not with wicked turns of phrases against him, or in the stilted politeness they had fallen to recently. He so wished this could be the norm.

Soon, the others began making requests to play with the stardust, and that’s how Steve found himself with a glowing cowboy hat hovering above his head and a sheriff star on his chest; Bucky got cursed with shimmering kitty ears, and Tony’s eyes and hair got completely covered in favor of large glimmering sunglasses and an Elvis-like hairdo. Rhodey almost pissed himself laughing at that last one, and Tony made sure to request Y/N put him in a large, cartoonish tin can. Clint found himself sporting a rooster’s tail and Wanda got herself a princess tiara, while Pietro laughed at the tortoise shell shining on his back. Nat demanded a full cat set to match Buck, while Vision’s face was placed in the middle of a corolla of daisy-like petals he much enjoyed. Bruce was given a gnome hat and beard, and Thor was delighted by his long Rapunzel braid of shining flickers of light.  When Nat and Wanda pointed out she wasn’t wearing any “sparkles”, Y/N relented and crafted herself a large witch hat. Tony issued for a group selfie before all the fun could end, and Friday managed to catch you all in a picture that no matter what the filter, would always look a little to bright at the edges.

The AI was the one to finally send you all to bed.

***+*+*+*+*+***

After a night that made you fall asleep with a smile on your face, you really weren’t prepared for the nightmares.

You weren’t ready when they seeped through your sleep, thwarting the image of the Captain’s friendly smile into the raging scowl you saw more often. Distorting the laughters in your dream into echoes of the taunts that persecuted you. And then the rest came. The lab, with its scorching light and the screams and the _burning_ …You were still screaming at your sizzling skin when the Judge reprimanded you harshly. “Why do you scream? Be quiet.” “I’m burning!” why didn’t she see the light, the scorching sunrays seeping out of your cracked skin. “You’re not burning. Be quiet. It’s beginning.” She said that and the energy incinerating you disappeared, leaving you seated in the witness box at the Trial. Your parents there, a few feet from you. Gaunt, pale, with large black eyes. A lawyer came towards you and transformed midway into a boy with a red t-shirt. His eyes empty. He didn’t say a word, he just lifted an arm towards the Gallery, and the rest of the nameless people you only met through pictures filled the stands, silent but haunting. Not a word was uttered but their empty eye-sockets on you were just as damning. “It’s done. The Jury may speak, now.” The Judge said, firm as ever. You turned and in the Jury box was no one else but the Avengers. Tony and Pepper were the ones closest to you. You called them, but they wouldn’t look at you. The rest of them stared at you as if they’d have much rather not ever met you. Then Tony stood, his eyes on you, and the disappointment in them cut you down.

“Tony, please…Please, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know…Please.”

“You... She has no place with us, your honor. Whoever wants her, they can take her.” He said, looking past you. You turned just in time to see the Judge knock her gavel. It sounded like the explosion in the lab, and you were burning once again.

Chains wrapped around your arms and dragged you back in the center of the Forge, keeping you there, the energy rippling out of you making the machines work, the thousands of weapons they crafted passing by under your eyes, already bloodied, taunting you. The chains kept siphoning the energy out of you, no matter how much you screamed, and the weapons rolled out in an unstoppable river. Your tears sizzled and evaporated on your cheeks. Back at the starting point: trapped and used to build death’s tools. You tried to invert the course of the energy flowing from you to the machines. It surprised you how easy it was to do. And now you were catalyzing the power of the Forge, stealing it. And the world around you was going dark and cold. Too dark, too cold, you were taking too much. You were about to swallow the darkness, too, but you couldn’t stop. And the darkness crawled on you, pushing you down, pressing, crushing you. It poured on your body, weighting your limbs down, then your torso. It slid from your shoulders to around your throat and over your face. Over your mouth, over your nose. You couldn’t breathe, your lungs ached, your throat burned.

And you woke up.

You woke to a mouthful of fire extinguisher’s foam.

You rolled off the bed, falling on all fours on the floor, coughing up a storm trying to get rid of the residue foam in your windpipe. Your knee hit a metal surface, and you felt Dum-e’s apprehensive beeping at the whine that escaped you. The room was too dark for you to see the bot. For you to see at all. Natural darkness wasn’t normally this black, a distant part of your mind pointed out. The smell of smoke reached your nose, and you looked down at the carpet sizzling under your fingers. A heavy, cold blanket hit your back and the icy sensation on your skin made you hiss.

“Y/N! Come on, snap out of it!”

Tony? You asked it again, aloud.

“I’m here. Now, you need to stop.”

“I can’t…Where are you? Can’t see…”

“Cause you must stop. Your taking in all the light around. Nobody can see anything. You’re burning up, you need to let it back out.”

His words froze you more than the wet blanket on your shoulders. You focused on your body, the sensations in it, and found what he meant, the feeling of warmth seeping in your bones, the raw energy thrumming in your veins, how hot your flesh felt. You exhaled slowly and the air felt warm as Sahara wind on your lips, as if you were breathing fire. You couldn’t believe this happened again after so long. How bothersome. How humiliating.

You flexed your muscles and with the next breath out of your mouth, light and colour exuded from you to the world around you, where it was supposed to be. You began at the edges of your area of influence, where it would be easier, and that’s how you noticed just how far you had gone. If you weren’t so busy being ashamed of your slip of control, you’d be scared. At its apex, you covered the whole building and everything else for almost ten yards around it. It took a minute before you were completely done, and then you sat back against the bed, cold sweat covering your skin, and a deep sigh escaping your lips.

A rustle on the side, and your eyes landed on Tony, standing in your room, next to Dum-e. He looked down at you, with his “really worried” forehead crease. You really didn’t deserve it. Then he tutted and looked away, embarrassed.

“What?”

He gestured to you and you found out your nightwear had burnt to crisps, the only thing covering you was the vibranium-filigreed blanket hanging loosely over your shoulders. You rushed to wrap it around you like a bath towel, then fell back down to sit on the edge of your mattress. Tony’s apprehensive gaze returned to you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” You conceded, and let him scrutinize your expression. He relaxed when he realized you weren’t lying, and you could feel his thoughts whirring into motion to take apart all the other implications of this accident.

“What happened? What was all that?”

“A…nightmare.” You admitted, despite your pride, then clarified “I wouldn’t have gone to bed had I known it was coming.” You saw your friend swallow before continuing his line of questioning.

“Was it…Was it the Trial?” he gestured to the room as if that was explanation enough, and for the first time, you took in the damage you’d done. You were glad it was still dark for the human eye, or Tony would have seen you pale. Your mattress sported a wide burnt-through crater in its center; the walls, floor and furniture were charred in straight lines, when you had probably let out flares. Your beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows had gone, molten glass dripping from the upper edges on the lower ones.

“The Trial, the Lab, the Forge. A bit of everything. I never half-ass things, remember?” you joked, morose. You passed a hand over your face, trying to collect your thoughts and start thinking forward, again, instead of staying in the loop of post-nightmare daze.

“Is anybody hurt? How extensive is the damage?” you asked first.

“Your room took the burn of it all. The rest of the compound is fine. Friday is set to warn me first if anything happens with you. The others might still be asleep.” You felt relief rush over you at your friend’s words.

“There will be explaining to do. The whole corridor will smell like smoke, and there’s no hiding the windows.” You pointed out, gesturing to the massive hole in the outer wall. The light of the moon streamed in along with some breeze. You were glad human eyes weren’t as sensitive as yours. Tony would have been less optimist if he could take in all the details fully. But he’d get there as soon as the sun rose, you supposed.

“Friday?” he called, and the AI answered immediately, even if her voice was haunting and metallic through the damaged speakers in your room. You saw the effect it had on Tony. His eyes began flashing to all the darker spaces in the room, alarmed, his muscles tensed, ready for battle. So, this must have been what Ultron sounded like.

“Let’s get out of here. There’s too much smoke to think clearly.” You guided him out, and then to an empty lounge at the end of the corridor, where the air was fresher. The two of you sat one in front of the other, on two close armchairs. Leaning forward, resting your elbows on your knees, your heads were a few inches apart, so that your whispering wouldn’t disturb anybody else’s rest.

“So, what do we tell the others?” you asked.

“That shouldn’t be your first thought.” He scolded you. You were at a loss. If you failed at this training, Tony’s name would get smeared, as the one who suggested you. He huffed as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain it to you.

“What? What is it?” you prodded. He had the nerve to huff a laugh.

“You” he stressed “are the silliest person.” You just kept staring, and he relented.

“It’s you, Y/N. You and your health. What brought this explosion on? What effects will it have on you? Do I need to begin researches?” he inquired, and while you were too surprised to answer immediately, his voice lowered in something much mole vulnerable than what you’d ever want to hear. “Is it something like…like the palladium?”

“No! No, it isn’t. Not in the slightest. I’m fine. I’m really, absolutely fine. I promise.” You squeezed his hand between yours “I promise. It’s happened before, when I’ve had nightmares.”

“Is it always this bad?” he asked, his eyes large and incredulous. You lowered your eyes.

“I’ve never done worst than burning through the sheets. At most ruin the mattress.” You admitted. He choked.

“Then what was all that? How!?” he pointed frantically in the direction of your room. You opened your arms wide, in defeat.

“I have no idea. Aside for that being a mash-up of all my worse dreams. Maybe it’s got to do with the training. Maybe my body getting stronger means my powers are strengthening, too. Maybe not using them in a while bottled them up and all it took was for my subconscious to let them out. And now I don’t know what to do. What if I train them and the next bad dream makes me wipe out the whole floor? What if I don’t use them anymore and as soon as I’m unconscious they flare out?”

“I think” he stated slowly, staring you in the eyes, when you lifted yours to his face “that you already tried not using them, and it brought to this. Training them might give you even better control of it, and an excuse to let them out. Also, you’ll need to use them, sooner or later, working with us.”

“Will the others even let me stay, after this? What if they think I’m too much of a liability?”

“Y/N, let me let you in on a little secret: we’re all liabilities here. You’re fine. At least this didn’t happen on a mission. You’re fine.” He assured, dismissing the notion easily.

“Tony, the outside of my room _melted_. It fused right off. It’s scary at best.” You opposed.

“I’ve seen Banner do worse without turning green. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do!” you whispered.

“Then trust me on this: the others won’t hold this accident against you. Tomorrow’s training is canceled. We’ll hold a meeting to plan out how to train your powers. Now let’s find you a new room. Friday, any ideas?” he informed you, then called out to the AI, who answered in a lowered volume, indicating a suitable option in a side wing not far from your usual corridor. You stood, stretching with a sigh, and looked over at Tony.

“Alright. Well, even geniuses, billionaires, playboys, philanthropists need rest. Go back to sleep, Stark, tomorrow’s gonna be one hell of a day.” You told him, and he stood up, too, with a mock-affronted scoff. A moment of hesitance, and you finally went to hug him tight. He held you just as strongly, for a long few moments. You felt him pressing a kiss in your hair before letting go. You moved to go to your new room, but he didn’t. You gave him the best imitation of Pepper’s scolding look you could give and he giggled, shooing you away.

“Go to bed.” You ordered stern.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. Nighty night! And put on some clothes, you’re indecent!” he joked after you.

“Hey, Emperor, nice new clothes!” You answered back, winking and projecting an illusion. Tony looked down and squeaked at seeing his clothes “gone”. You had even put a censorship square over the private bits.

“Goodnight, Tony” you sing-song-ed, heading for your room, and letting the illusion fall.

***+*+*+*+*+***

Y/N was out of sight, her new bedroom’s door locked shut with a click, and Tony found himself alone in the lounge. He let his smile fall, the heaviness of responsibility returning. It felt like having a depowered Iron man suit wrapped around his shoulders.

“Friday.” He called. She answered immediately. “Run a diagnostic of the accident.” He ordered.

“The cameras were damaged. The video is incomplete.” Friday stated, reproducing the images she had managed to record before everything went dark, then static began.

“Can you reproduce a temperature scan of the room?”

“What do you take me for, Windows Vista? I’m on it.”

A detailed hologram of the varying temperatures during the accident began rolling, and the scene it depicted made Tony pale.

“Friday, run a comparison. Anything that shows the same energetic buildup.”

“Sure.” A few seconds later dozens of pictures appeared on the holographic screen. “Well, her values didn’t reach quite the same level, but the pattern is the same of the ones seen during solar flares.”

Tony studied the screen for a long instant.

“What about the last part, when she absorbed without shooting back out. Try singling that out and run the comparison again.” He asked, since Friday had overlooked that part of the data in favor of more immediate connections. The AI took a minute to elaborate a suitable answer.

“You won’t like it.” She warned, before displaying the new information. Tony cursed under his breath.

“ _Blackhole_!? She was going frigging _blackhole_!? How!?” he questioned.

“It lasted only an instant at the peak of her absorption phase. She didn’t do it farther than at skin level, the rest of the space she darkened was fine.”

“Friday, my friend was going blackhole in her sleep and then told me in all honesty she felt fine. Explain.”

“You saw how large an area she covered. Well, the closer you went to her, the more energy she absorbed from you. At skin level, she pulled so much energy from the molecules around her that the atoms themselves got dismembered and absorbed. That’s why she didn’t burn her points of contact with the ground.” Friday recounted.

“Because she was actually chipping it away.” Tony concluded, sighing and passing a hand through his hair. “Ok. Notify Banner to have his lab ready for a full round of analysis first thing in the morning. Keep an eye on Y/N and warn me at the first sign of trouble.” He decided, then turned to the robot waiting nearby. “Dum-e, I have work for you. Roll down that corridor and stand by Y/N’s door. If Friday tells you there’s trouble, you have my permission to enter and spray Y/N as much as you want. Clear?” he instructed, and the robot beeped excitedly, scurrying away with a happy sprint in its wheels.

***+*+*+*+*+***

Steve couldn’t sleep. No reason about it. Morpheus had simply decided to avoid him, so he resolved to read some. His eyelids were finally getting heavy when his room began going darker and darker by the minute, despite his bedside lamp still on. It wasn’t hard to put one and one together. He left his bed and walked in the corridor. The end of it that faced Y/N’s quarters was a wall of pitch black, and there was rustling and beeping coming from the darkness. He followed.

He had to fumble in the unnatural darkness after just a few steps, placing a hand on the wall and proceeding carefully. He couldn’t even make out the silhouette of his own hands. Finding the right hall to turn into became way more difficult than he expected, and he was pretty sure the object he tripped in and toppled was Pepper’s Victorian coffee table. Darn it.

He was pretty sure he had finally found the right corridor when the light slowly came back, as much as there was of it in the first place, the moonlight illuminated only the little lounges at each end of the corridors, but even that was enough to feel surer on his feet. He found himself in the wrong hall, after all, and corrected his route. Half-way down the right corridor, he stopped, remaining out of sight, when he saw Tony and Y/N emerge from her room and sit close on two armchairs. They leaned in, heads close, engrossed in their whispered conversation, so he gave a better look.

Tony was still in his nightwear, hair mussed, but Y/N wore nothing but a…It seemed a towel, or a sheet…and nothing else, apparently. What the hell was going on? No, nope. Whatever it was, apparently it was private, and he’d stay out of it unless it caused trouble. Yes, he was going to do just that.

Steve pressed himself to the wall when they stood up, but before he could turn around and leave, he saw the two in the lounge embrace each other tightly. Intimately. For quite a long time for a normal hug. And when they let go, they just kept _flirting_ , Y/N winking and walking somewhere that definitely wasn’t her quarters, and Tony gazing after her smiling until she disappeared.

Tony turned suddenly and Steve hurriedly stepped back, his feet automatically taking him back to his own room while his mind reeled and something in his guts churned. The pang in his heart quickly turned to anger. What the heck were those two thinking? Tony was with Pepper, for crying out loud. And Y/N knew it, too. Hell, she had even seemed quite supporting every time the redhead’s name had came up. So what was she doing back there? And where was she going? Why did she feel the need to use her powers so intensely and in such a way if not to hide something?

Too many uncomfortable questions and too little answers. How he wished he had just stayed in bed and yielded to sleep when he had the chance.


End file.
